


Death of a Heart

by Frechi



Series: #HQAngstWeek2020 [6]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: "The worst thing even after everything is I still love you/I don't regret anything.", Abuse, Blood, Breaking, Death, F/F, Firsts and Lasts, Forced Marriage, Mental Abuse, Murder, Oppression, Physical Abuse, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Assault, fear/dread, indication of rape, little attempt on fluff(did I fail?👀), non-con, right person wrong time, suppression, traumatization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:05:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27420127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frechi/pseuds/Frechi
Summary: And when they parted again, Hitoka giggled, joy flooding her veins, butterflies fluttering in her stomach as she felt the love inside Kiyoko's gaze never decrease."Promise me something," Kiyoko asked her, carressing her soft cheeks."If it's within my power, I will promise everything," she answered with closed eyes, engulfing this moment, this heat, this touch while it engulfed her."Promise me you will never leave. Stay by my side as long as we exist."Her soft tips stopped when her plea came out into this world."I..." Hitoka hesitated voiceless, "I don't recall a time when I ever have broken that promise."Her honest eyes looked into her dark ones, serious about keeping what she had promised before.And Kiyoko's astonishment broke into a smile that melted away the seriousness between them."Me neither"
Relationships: Shimizu Kiyoko & Yachi Hitoka, Shimizu Kiyoko/Yachi Hitoka
Series: #HQAngstWeek2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1994737
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	Death of a Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Day 6:  
> •Firsts and Lasts  
> •Right person wrong time  
> •"The worst thing, even after everything, is I still love you/I don't regret anything."
> 
> Please do not use my work for anything!

Her long legs were walking her through the corridors. She knew of the watchful eyes, observing gazes from all sides. But she didn't care much about them. It wasn't something unusual for her after all.  
Documents pressed firmly to her chest while she walked through the classes on the search of a new manager for the volleyball club. She yet had to find them.  
Her face was calm like it always was but inside she was a little concerned. She had asked so many already and everyone declined her. Of course there were so many students at Karasuno that she couldn't possibly ask all of them this day but she couldn't help but worry.  
Who would support these blockheads that she so very dearly and genuinely had this incredible amount of affection for?  
Even though they could be stupid from time to time, Hinata and Kageyama who were obsessed with and seemingly existed only to love volleyball. Tsukishima who didn't take it serious at all, always teasing the two of them and Yamaguchi who was maybe a bit too worried for the tall blonde, honestly, what did his parents give him to eat to grow that much? And of course the second years. Tanaka and Nishinoya with their goofy flirting attempts, Ennoshita, Kinoshita and Narita and their unreasonable austerity.  
All of it were quirks she could not avoid even though she didn't particularily like them, qualities she didn't care about but at the same time had grown fond of as they all made these hours after class lively with this unnecessary behaviour.  
...She would miss them  
...A lot  
She shook her head slightly after being refused by another student.  
Because these were precious things, she could not let them down with not having a successor who would take care of them properly.  
A little sigh escaped her lips before she pressed them together firmly, lifting her head to find the next classroom when a known scent hit her nose. There was a familiar head, full of blonde hair. A little hair clip was clipped at the side of her bangs, blue, little stars covering the flat part of the it.  
Shimizu's heart bagan to race inside her chest.  
It couldn't be, could it?  
Her at this school.  
At the same school.  
And she hadn't knew her, met her or at least seen her even once?  
Her system blocked, everything froze. Her hands let the pages slide and they fluttered to the ground just in the moment when the girl passed her. Some of the mouths that belonged to these watchful eyes, began to murmur silently. But Shimizu didn't let that take her calm. She just knelt down and collected the pages.  
"Uwaaa, I'm so sorry," a voice so delicate like the chiming of the stars in the nightly sky, like the stars of her clip apologized for nothing that was her fault and small and slender hands arrived in her vision, helping her to put the papers back into a pile.  
And with all words this heavenly language could provide, she was starstruck at the longing feeling that spread inside her chest.  
Of course she had missed Yachi, of course she had known what her desire still was about.

It hit her like a train crashing into her with full speed when she met Yachi Hitoka for the first time in this life.

"Really?"  
Shimizu nearly screamed, her eyes sparkling with a sudden joy.  
Yachi looked back, clearly startled by the surprising reaction of Shimizu who was known for her aloofness that was also part of the source of her beauty.  
"Y-yes," her lovely voice stuttered.  
"Thank you, I'll come get you right after school!"  
Shimizu grabbed her small hands. The softness of her skin prickled on her own, her warmth sent goosebumps down her spine. If she wouldn't know how to prevent it, she would have blushed, feeling the heat coming up her neck. Her joy was so imdescribable. With the most sincere smile she filled up the younger girl's vision.  
Yachi's lower lip began to tremble.  
How was this beauty talking to her averagesness?  
Too soon for the both of them Shimizu let go of her tender hands. And Yachi stared after her, frozen in her cramped position with heat gathering above her throat.

Shimizu, on her end, couldn't believe she had finally found her. Sure, she had only lived this life for seventeen years but knowing how long her life would be with the life expectancy nowadays, she had been so scared to have to live without her for the majority of her years.  
As result of this meeting there was a certain lightness in her steps, the corners of her mouth wouldn't go down all the way, remaining in the smallest and inconspicious smile. But how could she help herself? There was just this natural, overjoyed, delighted warmth spreading inside her chest everytime her thoughts went back to her little palms that got a little sweaty, the rosy lips that began to tremble. The soft scraping of her nails on her own skin when she let go of her and the heating warmth getting warmer. There was still her scent lingering in her nose and her charming voice in her ears.  
She was just as Shimizu remembered.  
She was just as Shimizu remembered her the very first time they met.  
How she remembered her all these milleniums ago.  
It was shocking how clear her memories of every life still were. And those of the first were especially vivid.

She grew up as the daughter of a Samurai. At that time, being female, she was greatly worshipped. The servants around her did everything to satisfy her desires, desserts after a meal, new Kimonos made out of the finest materials. They arranged amuser to entertain her and teachers to teach her the ways of a noble woman. She grew up well-educated and beautiful. People would kneel at her feet as she truly had the countenance of a goddess and the behaviour of such. If they did it out of respect, veneration or because they found in her a worthy leader, there were various reasons but in the end they all treated her the same, as a deity.  
She was blessed with many qualities, fine crafts language, calligraphy, the list of her talents was long. And they worshipped every of them.  
But Kiyoko was not happy. Being among all these people that surrounded her day in day out, she never truly connected with them. Sure, she did what a good leader would do, her mind being smart, sage and fair-minded. But the position left her lonely. Although she didn't feel so. She still isolated herself in a way, making it part of the reason to her standoffish beauty. Perhaps the reason she didn't step over the necessity of the bounds was because they would just treat her the way they always had, as someone who leads. She couldn't talk to someone who wouldn't dare to speak their mind.  
But she was not necessarily unhappy. She made a lot of desicions but when she didn't, she sat in her chambers and read. It was fine the way it was. But it changed when another noble woman came to visit.

It was not time yet, to officially meet her, so Kiyoko stayed in her room again, reading and killing time until one of the servants would come get her. When some noise frome outside her doors fetched her attention instead. Quietly she opened the door ajar, looking through the gap but not peeking like a burglar would. She sat there, back straight, eyes focused in a horizontal line of sight. When the young Lady from another house entered her vision.  
Her eyes were naturally drawn to her, out of curiosity? Out of the different appereance? There were a lot of reasons when her eyes followed the young Lady. And she felt a drop inside her chest.

It was not even a sexual connection they felt. Surely enough, Kiyoko was a beauty, blessed with so much grace, her daintiness and benevolence sometimes seemed like spilling over the edge of her mortal existence. But to equal parts she could be harsh, lecturing and protective. She was not to be ruled, she was not to be tamed but at the same time she was not wild. She knew how to behave, she knew her ettiquette. And that was what gave her fierce nature its refined line, making her independent. She was intelligent and she had this certain eyes in which were running a deep appetency of knowledge, the desire to improve herself, to learn something new so that she would be able to protect those who sought and sought not her potection, to be able to protect those who were in need of it.  
It was not that she hated those who were not of the same layer as her, she loved every one of her folk but she could be more free with those who were of the same or a close plane as hers.  
It was due to that why she felt the attraction the moment her eyes had laid themselves upon the young Lady Hitoka who had traveled a long way to attend a meeting to strengthen the bonds of their houses.  
Kiyoko had seen it in her eyes, eyes that were so brown like freshly melted sugar. They darted around, watching everything they could see, observing the halls, the doors and their panels, every plank of wood that was bent across the floor. Her light feet surely were so silent because she didn't have to carry much around, her shape so petit but not frail. She was moving with enthusiasm and excitement and curiosity in her steps. Strangely enough her hair, swaying with her movement, almost bobbing with her lightness, was held short, the strands of yellow-gold ending very too soon at the end of her delicate jawline.  
And Shimizu remembered, How rebellious, was what she had thought.  
It seemed so uncouth and boyish to wear it that way. But despite her little androgynity, there was an indeniable muliebrity coming from her as the colourful pin let little ornaments dangle from her head in the rhythm her small feet carried her across the ground. Her enormuous Kimono was dragging behind her and it left a spur of colour inside Shimizu, the colours she was shining with. She barely noticed the servant that was hurrying after his Lady, babbling about things that didn't have her interest when she suddenly tripped and fell straight down.  
"Lady Hitoka!" the servant almost screamed as he broke into a run to help her up.  
Her intelligence was hidden beneath but there was so much of it behind her cunning eyes that always were looking for something new, that held this never-ending desire, a curiosity that was never satisfied although she had less bold ways to feed it. She was so gentle at heart. So much different from Kiyoko. Not only in appearance but from her character. Her personality was warm, a very vivid imagination resting behind her face, her face with these sparkling eyes that were casted from liquid gold, this snubby, little nose and her gleaming cherry lips. She would beam into a smile as bright as shining star when she discovered something that was new to her, when she learned about the unknown again.

Kiyoko was fascinated by her. Even during the official introduction, a great banquette was held, she found how her attention was naturally drawn to her again and again. She didn't show it, exhorting herself to lay attention to those who were talking to her, even scolding herself inside her head, but there was little she could do. Never had she felt this sort of thing before. And even though she had this knowledge of all sorts of languages, traditions, of history and arts, she could not explain what it was. Her education could not name it. And it was aggravating, keeping her up at the first night after. She barely got any sleep, so the next day was infused with surpressed yawns.  
Silently she ate her breakfast, trying not to steal glances at the blonde Lady in her proximity but she failed at it. She wanted to talk to her, she wanted her to come to her chambers and exchange what her beautiful eyes held. But even though this desire grew heavily, she could not abandon her own responsibilities as a noble woman, as a Lady and as someone who was beseeched by those who were in need.  
She listened to the reports of the servants and the retainers of her house but she steeply got distracted when their visitor visited her listening hours. Caramel eyes watched her closely when she gave advice and remarks. They didn't leave her until the hearings were over.  
Kiyoko arose gracefully to move to her chambers now when a chiming voice asked for her attention.  
"Lady Kiyoko," did the voice call out to her and she loved how her name suited her rosy lips perfectly.  
"Would you like to accompany me for a little of hours?"  
And there was a slight blush of shyness and embarrassment on her cheeks.  
"I would like to see the garden as I heared you grow flowers that are unfamiliar to our lands."  
Kiyoko bowed slightly, replying in the same manner: "I gladly will show you whatever you desire to visit."  
And when she looked up from her formalities, she saw a smile on the younger Lady's lips that became invaluable in the shortest of times.

Koyoko's heart was thumping heavily when she showed the Lady Hitoka the great variety of growths and plants blooming in the garden where gardeners were taking good care of their little lives, interrupting their work to bow to the Ladies respectfully.  
Kiyoko was walking with grace, speaking only little, when a question was asked to her, while her company was talking excitedly about all the new, although it might have been a soliloquy. She clearly was too shy to just begin a conversation with someone she wasn't used to, someone she didn't know, someone she didn't trust.  
Even at the formal introduction she was trembling a little, lips shaking when she almost stuttered out the words with a bow. Her cheeks had been flushed then too.  
So it was Kiyoko who asked her from time to time when her muttered thought processes didn't give herself any revelation. Although she also was bound back by her little fear, with every word coming from Kiyoko, she silently listened, taking in the knowledge her hostess shared with her.  
"Lady Hitoka," Kiyoko found the courage to say the name that gave her unbearable butterflies and shivers, "would you care to come to my chambers? I have a modest collection of books you might take interest in."  
She sounded more bold than she actually felt but she was good at hiding her her true emotions as unrest, for example, could unsettle her folk when bad news had arrived.  
"How could I decline an offering of such generosity?"  
And to her joy the younger Lady followed her to her rooms where she showed her the world she had taken her knowledge from.  
It were calm days that followed, mostly the Lady would read, Kiyoko being busy with her duties but when she came back to her chambers, she would always find the Lady Hitoka, reading through every book the shelves inside her rooms held. She would just sit down with her and read a book herself. In-between they would talk about what they knew, they would talk about everything they found as a mutual interest and the blonde Lady grew more comfortable with Kiyoko everyday.  
It was fun. It was enjoyable.  
It was filling the gap.  
The gap that Kiyoko hadn't noticed before. Yes, Hitoka's presence had made her realize the loneliness she had spent in for so long. And at the same time she was closing it with every second they were together. But to both their great sorrow, the time of Hitoka's visit was running out.  
The reason for her coming all the way to the Shimizu residence was to strengten the bonds between their houses, tying good and important connections. But it also was for educational reasons as Hitoka was no full-fledged Lady yet. She was sent there to learn from Kiyoko what a real noble woman was. And surely enough, she had learned a lot from the older one, Kiyoko had learned from her too.  
It was precious, the time they spent together, they had grown fond of each other that they didn't want to part again. But it was unavoidable, when time seemed to fly and the last night closed in.  
They sat inside Kiyoko's chambers again, reading in silence when she noticed how the blonde had taken down her book and her eyes stared at an unknown point.  
"Lady Hitoka?" Kiyoko asked, being a little unsettled although her voice only showed a try to ask her back into the present. But the blonde didn't react, so Kiyoko came closer, until their knees would almost touch. She laid a hand on her slender shoulders and asked again.  
"Lady Hitoka"  
Her book laid in her lap also, when her warm eyes came back from where they had stared at, yet when they looked into her dark ones, there was something painful attached to them. She was hurting with a burden that Kiyoko didn't know of and it was quenching at her heart equally painful as her eyes were tracing her own when a heavy word in a foreign language dropped off her lips, with despair and anguish making it so heavy.

"Saranghae"

She did say and the world all around them wouldn't stop turning.

"Saranghae," she cried as if she was pleading for her life. And she grabbed Kiyoko at her arms, clenching them with her small hands, crumpling the fabric of her Kimono while the book fell off her lap.

"Saranghae," she said with pain in the word and her voice almost vanished. Her lips were shivering when she tried to hide her tears behind her lids. She was sure that Kiyoko wouldn't understand, that she could leave without her knowing, but she was too unfaltering with her assumption.  
Tender hands grabbed her own, removing them from her arms.  
"Lady Hitoka," she didn't sound different.  
"Lady Hitoka," her voice called her name again and she was getting insane. Her face contorted more with holding back what she didn't want to spill.  
Why was it that her own name sounded so different when she was speaking it?  
How she wished for her to know.  
But Kiyoko knew very well, when she rested her own on her hands. And when she eyed her gruesomely contorted face, she couldn't help herself.  
What was it that she wanted?  
It were these lips that were trembling in whiteness, the rosy shade pushed away as Hitoka pressed them together firmly to never let these repelled screams escape.  
And Kiyoko couldn't help herself when she put a careful hand beneath her delicate chin to lift her hurting face. She couldn't help herself when she claimed them as her own.

In that night Hitoka slept in her bedding, staying inside her arms until morning would seperate them again.

Teaching Yachi was fun. Even though her interest in the beginning had been a little thin, the more time she spent with the team, the more she bloomed. She was still shy as there were so many people she didn't know enough yet to trust them completely. But she learned. Everyday her enthusiasm increased, she made new bonds with the members and the members also appreciated her hard work, they praised her for the poster she made, they also addressed her when they had an organizational request or question even though she wasn't their manager yet. The more she watched, the more she learned, the more she began to admire the team, each of the members individually. She began to understand the sport she had known nothing about. And she was so eager to learn more, the members providing her inquisitiveness with their own knowledge. When Kiyoko watched her, advising her as best as she could, she felt proud, she felt happy. Happy that her thirst for knowledge hadn't changed, as it had been what had brought them together, and proud that she could catch up. Kiyoko knew she could leave the team to her when she would have graduated.  
She knew that she would miss it, it all, the racket and chaos this team bestowed her with everyday and to be able to see Yachi everyday. But she was not afraid of what would come after her graduation. If it came down to nameing what she would feel, it would be happiness.  
Because life after her graduation wouldn't stop.  
She would just wait for them to catch up, to fulfil their dreams, to see them grow and move along on the way they had decided to go down. She would just wait for them.

How she had waited for Hitoka to return.

After she had left, they had kept in touch. Everytime a letter from Hitoka arrived she couldn't wait to open it. She read the words with the most care in her eyes, not to miss any of them, not to miss any little line her beautiful hand had written with thoughtful brushstrokes. And she would just reply the same way, thoughtful, cincere and honest. Until a letter arrived that couldn't restrain her. When Hitoka told that she would come to visit again. It wouldn't be as long as she had stayed the last time and for different reasons but it didn't matter much. And Kiyoko couldn't be more impatient when the day finally came.  
She felt like a child.  
And she was surprised when her love arrived.

A servant came and brought her to the main hall where laughter embraced her ears when she entered Hitoka's vision.  
She greeted her with an unusual smile on her lips. And they excused themselves after the meeting and the business, visiting everywhere Hitoka wanted to go. When the sun set, they retreated into Kiyoko's chambers.  
Hitoka marveled at all the new books she had collected since her last visit, joy carrying her as there were many she hadn't read yet. She picked up one and eyed it, eager to read. She sat down right there, opening the first page. A smile had settled on her rosy lips when she began to satiate her desire. But the voice of Kiyoko disrupted her craving.  
"You've grown out your hair," she said and suddenly Hitoka's face was flushed with the gloss of a rosy shade.  
"I just thought....your hair is so beautifully long," she confessed embarrassed.  
Kiyoko was taken by surprise but an honest smile settled fastly on her face when she admitted something herself.  
"I liked it better short."  
And her words got Hitoka's heart thumping. The rosy shade turned into a crimson blush, toppling down all the way to her neck, even her ears had turned colours like a cuttlefish.  
"Then..." she was hesitating but it was only because of her embarrassment.  
"Will you cut it for me?"

Shimizu delved into the memory of that evening, when they had sat together in her chambers in the dimming light while the sun's brightness had vanished more. Yachi had read the book while she softly and carefully had cut her hair back to the length it also was now. She had put a pin between her golden strands, stars like Konpeito, in the colour of a light blue, dangling from it. And Hitoka had looked at her with this gaze in her eyes, her face coloured in a deep red.  
"You look stunning," she had said out of breath over her permanent beauty, shining before her, breathless without having run.  
She stole her.  
And Kiyoko had laid her hands against her heating cheeks, pressing a tender kiss against her forehead.

What an outer-worldly girl.

"My little star," she had called her that evening and their love had still been real.

"That?" Yachi asked, being a bit uncomfortable.  
"U-um, I don't know," she answered and a few drops of sweat formed on her skin. Shyly she blushed a little bit.  
"I got it the day I was born, as a present. I really don't know who bought it, much less where."  
She was sheepish, having to disappoint Shimizu who had been so selfless to bring her to this wonderful club, full of wonderful people. Her Senpai who has introduced her to a world that had been so unknown to her.  
"I see," Shimizu replied with a soft smile, looking at the sparkling clip where the little stars were shining in their light blue, reflecting the light of the lamps.  
"I suits you well."  
She only meant to compliment her, no unlterior motives, but Yachi blushed so hard that she couldn't suppress a little chuckle.

"Aaaaaaah," a male choir resounded directly after, screaming delightfully, "Kiyoko-san chuckled!"  
Of course it were Tanaka and Nishinoya. They were as noisy as always, letting her adjust her facial expression back to her calmness. It's not that she hated them and their horrible flirting but sometimes they were a little too loud. They didn't have to praise and worship everything she did. Although it had been that way in their first life too but then it wasn't as loud.  
No, that life had been peaceful.  
To the very end.  
Even when they had married each a man, even when they had become mothers, they had loved both their children with all their hearts, outliving the remains of their lives until they had become old and wrinkly.  
It had been so peaceful.  
Except for the clumsiness of the blonde that had followed her through all their past lives, even to this time.  
They had lived through many eras.  
They had lived as the most different humans.  
They had been noble women and their maids. She once had been a mighty empress. And a warrioress while Yachi mostly had been her maid. But they had been farmers as well. And sometimes Yachi had been the noble woman and Shimizu had been her maid. But no matter how the roles had been distributed, they had always found each other, they had always held each other. They had always loved each other.  
Although the times had been changing and there had been lives when the gruesome world had seemed to be out to get them.

When the world was taken by the hands of the males, the freedom of women was compromised.  
Once again Hitoka found herself to be a noble woman. But it was nothing like the way it once bestowed her peace and comfortable quiet.  
No, this time, this life especially, was a horrible nightmare.  
Being a noble woman, being a woman.  
It was a cruel world that had taken away the freedom of hers.  
Growing up as the daughter of a Samurai, she was married off so quickly to a man she didn't know, didn't want to know. Someone that was a stranger to her. But her father expected her to fulfil her duties that had changed so much from then.  
There was only a little bit of luck as he wasn't really interested in her either. He didn't give her much attention. But she knew that when the time would come, he would expect her to offer herself. It was nothing she desired. But there was only the choice of it being violent or less violent.  
And the thought alone made her tremble in fear.  
She was anxious every day and evening that he would stand at her doors and demand her to fulfil her duty. It was painful how she slowly lived through her paralyzing fears day after day.  
She knew that he was discarding her in a way, seeing her as object, as something that would carry out his heir. She knew that he rather spent his nights with his lovers that could not fulfil her part. So it was a great surprise when another Lady was visiting the castle as a possible love interest for her husband.  
When she saw the woman the first time, she was not surprised that she was chosen and that he probably would favor her over herself.

She was introduced to her as 'Lady Kiyoko'.  
And Hitoka couldn't control herself in front of her dark, dark eyes that looked at her like the opaque sky at night, calm, comforting they were. And she blushed a little bit when they bowed.  
Her husband sent Hitoka to entertain the Lady and she knew that he would hold her responsible if something unhappy were to happen. It was an easy way for him to shirk the responsibleness, she knew his methods all too well. He was not abusive in that way that he would hit her or degraded her with words. But there was a constant pressure lingering behind everything he did and said. Even in the way he was walking, sitting and eating she could feel him demanding total obedience and perfection from her.  
But the day Lady Kiyoko arrived at the castle, a little bit of freedom and peace settled inside her breaking bones.

Hitoka was getting drunk on her. And Kiyoko felt her wings carry her away. The day they met the first time in that life, she had always felt so heavy and Hitoka had felt down her whole life, both being suppressed with what the masculinely ruled world was putting on them, pressuring and forcing them into lives they didn't want. Both of them were the salvation for each other that they needed in order to escape just a little bit.

To both their luck Kiyoko stayed a few months and as the words spilling from Hitoka's mouth in her presence icreased, so did their relationship.  
But Hitoka didn't know of their former lives, Kiyoko did. And she was desperate.  
She wanted her to remember, she wanted her to recognize.  
Until Hitoka finally did, little snippets of memories came flooding her mind bit by bit.

"We always went to the lake near the village. And we would just jump in in our underwear."  
A nostalgic smile was reaching her eyes when she remembered one of their lives as the daughters of simple villagers.  
And Kiyoko fell to her knees in front of her and she hugged he tight.  
Hitoka blushed. It was not like her but she could understand. She could also understand the little, barely noticable wetness at her neck, sliding down her collar and vanishing just as fast.  
She finally understood the pain Kiyoko had carried for so long.

"And do you remember the first time we kissed?" her voice was thin and streched while she was trying to keep it from shaking. She was clutching the fabric of her Kimono and a few of her long, dark strands.  
"How could I ever forget."  
Hitoka heared the little shudder Kiyoko's own voice couldn't hide completely.  
"But I forgot"  
She felt her stiffen in her embrace, her breath halted as if it was something she had missed to do when she couldn't keep these little tears from flowing.  
"So I need you to remind me."  
Hitoka blushed wildly, her small back becoming even smaller. But the thumping of her heart was slowed oh so slightly when she felt an affectionate hand caressing across her long, blonde hair.  
She relaxed as she knew she could trust her. And their embrace parted away. Misty eyes finding each other. Kiyoko's lips were trembling just like her own. But they became so still when they met, although they were not frozen, an incredibly warm heat was exchanged through the soft touch.  
And when they parted again, Hitoka giggled, joy flooding her veins, butterflies fluttering in her stomach as she felt the love inside Kiyoko's gaze never decrease.

"Promise me something," Kiyoko asked her, carressing her soft cheeks.  
"If it's within my power, I will promise everything," she answered with closed eyes, engulfing this moment, this heat, this touch while it engulfed her.  
"Promise me you will never leave. Stay by my side as long as we exist."  
Her soft tips stopped when her plea came out into this world.  
"I..." Hitoka hesitated voiceless, "I don't recall a time when I ever have broken that promise."  
Her honest eyes looked into her dark ones, serious about keeping what she had promised before.  
And Kiyoko's astonishment broke into a smile that melted away the seriousness between them.  
"Me neither"

They were happy.  
In this suppressing, hurting, abusing world the both of them nonetheless and still had managed to be happy.

Now why was it that the world was out to get them?  
Hadn't they suffered enough?  
Or maybe it was male discontent.

When Hitoka's husband made her worst fear a reality.  
He had observed her. And the way her submission had slipped away from his grasp, no, it wasn't her obedience. It was the fact that her world didn't circle around him any longer, that he wasn't her center, that she didn't belong to him anymore the way she had been.

It happened in the late evening when Kiyoko was still in her own chambers, following the duties, reading letters from her house that had arrived.

Hitoka was alone.  
And she was vulnerable and defenseless, violable and unprotected.  
He came to her, grabbing her chin when she refused to look up.  
And he demanded from her what she always had repelled with her whole being.  
He demanded it from her like something axiomatic like he wanted her to pour a drink for him.  
But she didn't want to.  
She had met Kiyoko now.  
It had changed. Her willingness to which extend she wanted to go to.  
And she was reluctant to let herself be touched by him.  
But he wasn't willing to let her have her way.  
When she raised her voice just a bit, telling him to stop, his palm silenced her in the blink of an eye.  
And he screamed at her, spitting these words that compressed her to her old, pathetic and small self, a self he could control, a self that was his, his alone to rule and to have her at his disposal.

It was a nightmare.  
A nightmare that didn't want to end.  
A nightmare that even got worse.  
When the door flung open and a deadly fearful Kiyoko stormed inside.  
She froze at the sight of him looming over her beloved one.  
It made him explode when he saw how that part of Hitoka still did not belong to him again. When her eyes showed this little spark of resistance, telling Kiyoko to run away.  
He shoved Hitoka away, she impacted on the ground with a painful sound while he drew his sword.  
It happened too fast, even for Kiyoko who always had fast reflexes.  
He hit her cheek with the back of his hand but it was with such force that she fell to the ground.  
He slammed the door shut, violently he pulled her by the hair and shoved her into position, using the ribbon from her hair to bind her wrists behind her back.  
"She will never be yours," Kiyoko accused him with the truth, her voice full of hate.  
But he didn't listen, he only bound her tighter.  
"Hitoka," her soft voice called out to her blonde love who sat on the ground, paralyzed. And there was all the love in her eyes that their past lives had brought to them, a smile passing on her knowledge of what was to come.  
"Don't lo-"

Her blood sprayed into her eyes, turning her vision red. She felt the warmth of it on her skin and she became nauseous from it.  
The feeling, the stench, the colour...  
All that what she had loved became what she dreaded in less than an instant.

She couldn't even cry when her stomach begged her to empty it, when the half-digested food sprawled out all across the floor, ruining more of the room that was keeper of so many happy memories.  
She was paralyzed, so much that she didn't feel his hands on her body, yanking her back at the silky and wet strands of her hair, she didn't feel him at all, whatever he was doing with her, it just passed her solid-stated.

He left her there in-between the leftovers of death and horror.  
When it began to loosen its grip on her, she began to shiver, coldness, did it come from the little left open door? Or was it the missing part of her self in truth.  
In the puddle, the pool, in the lake of dried wetness, her hands grabbed on to something firm.  
Her mind was only coming back, she didn't perceive everything yet again. But when she sat up, looking at her hands to find out what that something was, it broke her out of her paralyzed oblivion.

"Look," her voice was shaking like her body was, maybe even more. "It's short again, how you've liked it most"  
She almost bit her tongue when her jaw clenched, gritting her teeth to suppress her vehement screams. Only her tears were passing her strangulation, scarring her face with shining in the lamps' dim light, looking as if they were liquid flames. Letting go of her golden hair that looked like it was burning away with the wet crimson. Her body slumped over with her arms wrapped around herself, trying to imitate the warmth of her embrace. But it was for naught. It was unbearable to be inside this shrunken, reduced body, caged with no escape, bruised and defeated, he had beaten her, a red cheek gleaming more in its colour than the other, angry marks all over her body, green and blue blending into cyan, magenta and bordeaux were clothing her nakedness, his irascibility had beaten her to grey.  
And her hand searched what she had loved so dearly, clawing these blond strands over her eyes, ranking through them in search of who was gone.

The star had become a supernova, slowly self-destructing but not how a supernova detoriated in a beautiful explosion, shining one last time with all its beauty, her devastation was tragic and broken. There was nothing beautiful to find when she found her steep end.

"Um, thanks," her uncertain reply was when he closed her fingers around the little sachet Shimizu had given her, while she left with a small smile.  
Yachi didn't know if it was only coincidence that she received a gift from her on Valentine's Day so she was very unsure. As there also had been gifts before this one.  
With a little sigh she went back inside her classroom and sat down at her table. She was a little scared to open the little bag but in the end she did it.  
Inside was chocolate that seemed to be self-made.  
While her classmates commented on her having a boyfriend, thus making her flustered, she didn't know what she should do with the sweets. Of course they looked just scrumptious and honestly her mouth was watering already. But in the end she put them back inside.  
Yet when she arrived at her home after practice and unpacked her bag for her studies, the sachet sat comfortably in the middle of her table. Of course she had placed it there but she hadn't gone any further. She still didn't know what to do with it as she felt a little uncomfortable, as if these sweets weren't meant for her.  
Well, bad conscience or not, in the end she couldn't resist this extremely tempting scent and the moment she had taken a bite, she actually had eaten every piece of it.  
And they had been delicious.  
But it got her thinking. Because now she felt a little guilty.  
She wanted to give her something in return. But as she still didn't know if it had been coincidence or intention, she planned to give her her return present on White Day. If it was a coincidence, she could just say that it was dual now and if not, well...then her reason was also explained.  
So when the day finally arrived, Yachi was a bit nervous when she entered the gym where they all were practicing already, greeting her when the boys noticed her. Of course she greeted back but when she saw her Senpai, the one she had been looking for, a queasy feeling spread inside her stomach and she felt like puking a bit when her nervousness took a little stonger hold of her.  
"Um, Shimizu-senpai," she didn't even stutter but her shyness let her blush anyways.  
The darkette turned turned to her, giving her her full attention.  
"Um, you gave me these sweets the other day and um, I just wanted to thank you, so, um..."  
A little clumsily she shoved the little box at the older one who accepted them without a smile. Instead her dark eyes lingered on her face a little longer.  
"You don't know how lovely you are," Shimizu whispered under her breath, her voice melting in with all the noise from the boys' practice.  
"Sorry?" the blonde girl asked, not having understood a word of the mumbling that sounded like a mushed sentence, as if it wasn't supposed to be noted by her ears in the first place.

But right after she had taken the box out the blonde's hands, saying inaudible words, a ball came flying at them.  
Shimizu reacted as quickly as always, taking Yachi out of its trajectory and slapping it away with her free hand.  
"Sorry, sorry," the apologies came flying in while Hinata came and picked up the ball. Yachi just watched, frozen in a way, hearing her Senpai sigh quietly before she turned to her with a smile this time.  
"Thank you for these, I'll try them at home."  
With that she left to put them away and to continue with her tasks, leaving the blonde to watch her back and with more questions.

Truly, Yachi had this strange feeling with her. Whenever Shimizu was around, she was flustered, almost embarrassed by her appearance. She always grew red in her face and she felt so much like stuttering that she also felt like tearing up, if not crying. But nonetheless, she didn't. It was as if something was just missing to push her over the edge. Always, while the heat spread across her cheeks, even taking over her ears, she did not flounder, instead she went quiet. Shimizu did not affect her to panic, she affected her to silence. Everytime when her Senpai then was done with what she had come for, Yachi just stared at her leaving back and truly.  
The feeling of the chocolate was also feared by her. She didn't seem like she belonged here. She seemed off, a different aura that was not fitting eradiated from her. And in a weird way it made Yachi sad. Because also the relationship she had with her seemed wrong. Like there would be two kinds of connection they could share. But the thing they had now was hanging somewhere in-between. And she didn't like how that felt.

Shimizu was frustrated. Frustrated with her own feelings.  
It was such a mess inside her, she didn't know what to feel anymore, she couldn't understand Yachi's behaviour. And it hurt her that her attempts were always left misunderstood, misinterpreted and seemingly not appreciated. She couldn't get a grip of Yachi. She had tried in so many ways to make her eyes turn to the sparkling caramel she had always looked at her with but with every present, every compliment, even with every time she would just appear somewhere near her, be it intentional or not, Yachi seemed to get more uncomfortable around her, so fast she would have this troubled look on her face, almost agonized she would avert her eyes every time.  
That's not how it's supposed to be, her thoughts shattered on the little box she just had recieved.  
Even when she was giving her this little present, Shimizu could clearly feel how the blonde had just wanted to leave.  
Maybe she had felt pressured to give her something in return?  
Had she forced herself to prepare a return gift?  
What was the meaning of this?  
Giving her the present on White Day, what was the meaning of it?  
Was it intentional?  
Was it accidential?  
Shimizu drove her own mind insane with questions she had no answers for, even though she was so educated. She felt just like in her first life. But this time the feeling was keeping her awake for another reason.  
She wanted to know the truth and while she had been watching Yachi all the time, she now slightly changed the way she watched over her. Where her eyes had been affectionate with no limit and regret to it, engulfing herself with the smiles on her pink cherry lips, she now observed the whole picture. Her attention was not only directed at her blonde Kouhai, she was seeing who she talked with, who was laughing with her, what she was doing, even trying to read what she was saying.  
But the longer she watched and the more answers appeared to her questions, she was stripped of the layers of her heart.  
Seeing how Yachi wasn't any different to her, yet being a completely other person was so hard to swallow.  
Shimizu saw how the younger one was interacting with others and it wasn't much different to when she was interacting with Shimizu. But when they were, Shimizu had noticed that Yachi indeed nervous and shy and smiling at her the same way she was with everyone else but when she was with her, she also clearly didn't feel comfortable for another reason, another reason Shimizu couldn't figure out. The only thing that happened was the enhancing feelings of hurt inside her when another layer was peeled off of her.  
There were more things that became clear to her, things she could have noticed sooner but just didn't.  
It was piling up inside her, frustration, hurt, pain, the forced realization of the truth.

She tried to keep herself together, trying to keep her hopes and the painful love when she remembered happy times, when they were together. She remembered how she had danced for her with a fan. And she remembered how they had danced together, exchanging only so small touches when they swirled through the room for no one to watch but themselves.

Why could she not have it?  
Why could she not have it in this life?  
When finally everything was fine, no war, no duties, no one to seperate them, why was it now Yachi who was refusing their happiness?

Shimizu turned up the temperature, heat pelting down on her, fifty centigrades warming up her skin.  
The water was so hot and she didn't know if it was soothing or burning her.  
But there were several reasons for it. Because it felt like Hitoka's touch, her body against her own, cuddled, entangled together, the heat of her crimson flushed cheeks, of her adoring clevage and the colour of her skin. It was what she desired. But the other was more terrific. She wanted to boil herself. Because she couldn't have what she had had all these other times. She wanted to scald herself with what felt like her, an apt substitute. Yet nothing more than a fake.

She couldn't remove the memories but she began to wish to not have them at all.

That was her breaking point.  
Wishing for them to be forgotten by her mind, the barrel was full. And it overflowed when she spilled herself in this quiet moment they shared alone but together.

When Shimizu looked into her eyes, beneath them for the first time in this life, when she saw the missing piece that at the same time had no place in the puzzle of her eyes at all, not fitting anywhere as if it was taken from another one, something little inside her broke.  
The last little that had remained unscathed through all these reincarnations that had slowly but surely broken away her heart.

"You forgot how to love me...."

And her voice became thick, an aching in her throat clogging up her pipe.

In her mind she had already noticed. That she seemingly was the only one to keep her treasure, as she always had been the one who rembered it all and she had been the one who always had to be remembered.  
It was as if Shimizu was the only one who wanted to keep what she had found all these decades ago while Yachi was pulled back by her again and again while she tried to move on, even though they had promised each other.  
She had sworn to love her for thousands of years, so she did. And she swore to love her for a thousand more. So since when then had this promise become so impossible to keep?

It was more than painful to admit to it.  
And Shimizu knew she would not remember it but she couldn't keep her accusation from spilling.

"Weren't you the one who said you'd never leave?"  
Her own voice was trembling, lips shaking while they unsteadily formed into a smile. A smile that she had never seen on her before.

"Why did you break your promise?"

Yachi saw how Shimizu was crumbling away, her edges and outlines breaking apart while her being was falling out of her grasp.

It looked as if it was placed there, taken from somewhere else.

Shimizu felt like she was dissolving but when she spoke the next words, Yachi herself felt like she was swept away from her existence as she seemed so certain when her voice was almost dissolving.

"I love you"

The air stopped between them when Yachi's eyes grew wide with every following word that her tearing voice let loose.  
"And the worst thing, even after everything, even though you became the source of my pain, even though I am doing this to you again, I don't regret anything. With the irresistible way you are, I can't help myself but love you. So I am doing this to you. And I am not sorry. But seeing that you have moved on, that you are over me, even after all these millenniums, it causes a pain inside me that I can't even fully grasp. I wouldn't know where to begin and how to describe it if I were to explain it to you. It's just....you are causing me pain. And it makes me unable to breathe. So just how you have let go of me, I need to be able to carry on. I will let go of you too. But I will never stop loving you."

Her eyes captured her golden ones but her voice was steady now. She was sure to what she was saying and she was not sorry when she did to her what she did.

"I love you Yachi Hitoka."

Nervous laughter filled her ears like a melody she could never dream of trying to hum in an attempt to imitate it.  
"Why are you laughing, there is nothing....to laugh about."  
Coming closer a little bit, the sudden closeness made the blonde girl blush fiercely.  
"But I guess you would be embarrassed. Me, suddenly confessing to you."  
Her eyes were still fixated on her face, tracing the lines of her that she had fallen for, a strand of hair finding itself between her fingers, like silk they shimmered when she touched them with her lips. Her hands followed her body down, down her arms. She cradled her hands in her own, bringing them up to her face, kissing them most sincerely. Her hands sought her hair once more, keeping her stunned face in place while she came up to her, planting kisses all over her face. Softly on her cheeks, adoringly on her forehead. Tenderly on her lids and an affectionate peck on the tip of her nose. When her calm, dark eyes followed her face further down.  
They rested at her lips.

"I apologize for it. For being so blunt and dumping this on you"  
Her silent words dissolved easily in the air when once more she closed the gap between them.  
Having her neck tightly between her slender hands, she didn't even try to avoid it, scared, confused and taken by surprise, maybe even paralyzed how she was now, not even when she claimed her lips with the most care in her touch.

It was a bit forced. And it tasted like bitter defeat. It was just a grain of how much these emotions inside Shimizu truly were. And she couldn't help but feel grieving delight with the touch.

Her affection spread a prickling across the soft skin that was tainted with a deeper crimson when her own lips were bruised so softly by hers, as if they were competing against the flush of her cheeks.  
Though the touch didn't hold long, it felt like an eternity, seperating them there but she made their foreheads touch instead. There was pain on her face, there was pain inside her voice even though she tried to hide it well.  
"I just kissed you goodbye. And yet I can't let go of you..."  
In a weak attempt she turned her head to break this new contact again.  
"I'm sorry," she apologized, regret marking her now after all when her warmth fully escaped her grasp.

Yachi was frozen in place while she watched her Senpai walk away. She was so stunned about the confession, about the face and emotions she had seen on her always so calm and collected face, she didn't even dare to touch what she had touched. There was a small urge to run after her shrinking figure but it was too weak to make her move and so she could only watch, not being able to help but feel a dull pain. Her leaving let her feel.....lonely. Watching her back grow smaller, Yachi had the strange feeling that this was final. And she was wondering about the last of Shimizu that she was able to see before she would disappear with her graduation from her own sight. And there was something sad about it, sad but little so that Yachi could only wonder if there could have been something else.

And for once Shimizu felt like she didn't belong to this world. As if she was placed here, taken from somewhere else.  
Being born into the right time but the wrong world.

And all that remained from all the past lives were the scars inside Shimizu's heart and the little mole under her lips, the first time Hitoka had tried to kiss her in their first life but she had missed her mouth and instead had pecked her chin.

She reminiced with the last of those memories she allowed her mind to see while her heart broke with the devastated smile on her shaking lips.  
She shouldn't be sad. She shouldn't be. Hitoka could now finally live a life without being bound to her, without being bound to this pain, without being bound to something that only existed because of the past, something of the past that was the only reason she had been forced again and again into this relationship. And Shimizu felt bad for it. Yes, their love had blossomed everytime again, even though the blonde had lost her memory with every new life. But Shimizu had to remind her first, had to make her fall for her again, she always had to do something before they could love each other again. They had been bound to it and Shimizu gladly had done these things. But nonetheless had she grown tired. Tired of seeing how this bond seemed to be only precious to her as Hitoka had forgot it times and times over. She had gotten tired of being the only one to hold on. So when she let go, she shouldn't be sad. And yet she cried bitter tears, a broken heart, laying in shards that she carried away in her silent chest. She should be happy for Hitoka, yet she was almost mournig this first and last love of hers, the only love she would ever have.

What a shame for them to part.


End file.
